


Pretty in Punk

by ghostofsmilespassed



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, It's an AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 21:10:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8638177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostofsmilespassed/pseuds/ghostofsmilespassed
Summary: When the ideal world is suburbia; perfect houses, perfect lawns, all in perfect rows and full of perfect people, it is hard to find yourself. Patrick Stump, the youngest son of a wealthy and respected family, thought so too. Teenage rebellion begins to build within the him, and after sneaking out one night to see a concert that his parents would've forbidden, Patrick realizes that he had found himself in the form of a punk boy with choppy black hair and black eyeliner.< the description is shit i know i'm sorry. i'll add more tags as the story progresses ><>





	1. Fire (An intro)

_Loud. That was Patrick's first thought as he carefully made his way into the crowded venue, checking to make sure no one followed him. Patrick shivered, from nervousness more than the October air, and looked around the dimly lit place. People were dancing and talking animatedly, while some band was setting up on a stage in front. Patrick inched his way through the crowd, refusing drinks as they were offered, only trying to see whatever music was being played._

_One of Patrick's friends, Joe, had told him about stuff like this. Of music that completely and totally wasn't normal, and the people that went to these places were far from normal too. They had grown up surrounded by very soft, melodious music; Joe and a few of his friends had said that this music was much, much louder, angrier. Patrick was burning with curiosity, and eventually, found a place where he could find out more. After dark, Patrick managed to sneak out of his window, eventually making it to the alleyway to enter the venue._

_He wanted to dress appropriately. Patrick tried his best to find clothes that matched Joe's descriptions; the darkest pair of jeans he had, his black school boots, a flannel shirt that belonged to his father and was slightly too big for him, and a hat to hide his mess of hair. Patrick shrunk in on himself as he looked around. Most of the people were wearing leather or denim, everything tight or short or both. Patrick tried to keep his eyes down, standing quietly in a corner until the band started playing._

_It was the guitar he noticed first. It was fast and loud and nothing like Patrick had ever heard before; these were electric guitars, not the acoustic ones his father and their church used. But then the rest of it hit him; the speed and anger of the drums and the guitar and the singer, all of it making his entire body burn with.. something. Patrick's eyes hungrily looked over the band; they were dressed like the rest of the crowd, all tight clothes and leather, and Patrick's eyes didn't linger for too long on any of them until he noticed the bassist._

_Patrick couldn't help but stare. The boy was a little older than him, he could tell, with dark skin and eyes. He had tattoos peeking out from under his clothes, and his hair was choppy, an oily black color. Patrick's eyes grew even wider when he realized he was wearing eyeliner, something he had only seen his mother put on a few times before. Somehow, he seemed familiar... The warmth that was growing inside of him before suddenly filled every part of his being, and Patrick's heart raced when the bassist began screaming into his mic. Patrick's ears were ringing; this feeling was electric, unlike anything he had ever felt before. As if the boy knew he was being watched, he looked into the crowd, and right at Patrick. Patrick froze, staring back at him with wide eyes, and the boy grinned. His smile was all teeth, perfect, white teeth, that seemed to shine against his dark complexion. The grin was more of a smirk, and Patrick felt the fire from before shift into a different kind of heat. This lasted only for a moment before the boy began to bounce around stage, but the moment seemed to make the world spin for Patrick. Suddenly, Patrick felt more like himself than he ever had before. After a few more minutes, Patrick joined in with the rest of the crowd, jumping and screaming and laughing, his eyes shifting back to the bassist more and more. Patrick's skin, his soul, it was on fire, and he loved the feeling of burning._


	2. Dull

Patrick felt numb when he woke up. The sun wasn't up yet, but you could still see the fog in the darkness. It was quiet and still and cold, and Patrick felt a pang of sadness in his chest when he realized this was how his life had been forever. He got out of bed mechanically, showering and getting ready for school the same way he always had, his body going on autopilot while his mind raced. His thoughts kept lingering on last night, on how he sneaked out to see that band... That band. Patrick picked at his breakfast, not really paying attention to his family as they all came downstairs. The band from last night, how loud and angry and alien they were, how unusual.. And how enticing. The burning feeling that had enveloped him last night was still in his chest, waiting for a chance to spark up again. Patrick wanted, needed more of that fire. The music seemed to speak to him in a way that the traditional gospel music his father played never could, but it wasn't just that. The way the people at the venue that night dressed, the way they looked and acted... They were so free, so completely and totally their own person.. Patrick's thoughts drifted even more, to the band that played, to their members, to a certain member of that band... 

The bass player that was there that night was unlike any other person Patrick had ever seen. He jumped and danced and played with the energy of a child. His eyes were bright and wild, framed by dark eyeliner that his mother would never dream of wearing, and he was covered in tattoos. His clothes were tight and dark, but his grin was so dazzling..Yet somehow, there was something familiar, something he couldn't place.. Patrick felt his stomach twist. That boy... Patrick wanted desperately to know his name, to seem him play again.. "Patrick!" 

Patrick jolted from his thoughts, looking up at his confused and annoyed parents. "Patrick, I asked you three times to pass the butter and you didn't hear me. Then, your mother tried to tell you to put your plate in the sink if you were done eating, and you didn't hear her, either. Are you alright, son?" His father asked, concern in his voice, but also a slight tone of annoyance. Patrick's father was getting annoyed with him a lot lately; he was often lost in thought, or quiet when his father wanted him to participate in something school or church related. 

Patrick shook his head. "I'm fine; just worried about school.. I don't know what I made on the test we took Friday.." The lie wasn't a total lie. Patrick really didn't know what he made on his test, but he certainly wasn't thinking about school. Nevertheless, he would pray for forgiveness later on that night, because Patrick really didn't like lying. 

It seemed to prove enough to his father. He simply nodded, relaxing into his chair. Patrick stood quietly and put his plate in the sink, grabbing his backpack from the hall and making his way to the bus stop. It was still chilly out, despite the jacket of his school uniform. Patrick hunched in on himself, looking at the ground, his thoughts wandering again as he waited with his siblings for the bus to arrive. 

Once again, his thoughts shifted to the boy from last night. Something about him seemed to fascinate Patrick. He wanted to talk to him, to be friends with him, to maybe even be like him.. _No_ , he though, _I wouldn't be that flashy. But maybe.._ Patrick began fantasizing, imagining himself in dark jeans, in a dark shirt, maybe even with a guitar.. The thought made that fire in his chest flare, and he had to struggle to keep his composure. Patrick had to talk to Joe, to see if he felt this way too. Maybe he even knew the boy.

Patrick was pulled from his thoughts again when he got on the bus, choosing to sit beside his friend Brendon. Brendon was a bit odd; he sang in choir, but he always had this childishness about him, and once, Patrick caught him smoking cigarettes behind the school. Brendon begged him not to tell his parents, and since then, they had become closer friends. Joe mentioned that Brendon knew a lot about those kinds of bands too, so Patrick waited until they pulled away from the bus stop to lean over and question him. 

"Hey, B.. I-I need to ask you about something.." Patrick glanced up at him nervously, biting his lip. Brendon gave him a puzzled look but whispered ,"Of course, what's up?" 

"I um.. Joe told me something about um.. These..These bands and I uh.. I sorta snuck out to see one last night?" Patrick stuttered out nervously. 

Brendon blinked a few times, looking at him incredulously before throwing his head back and laughing. "Oh Patrick, sweet sweet Patrick, being a bad boy huh?" Patrick blushed and told him to keep his voice down, shoving his shoulder playfully. Brendon ignored him, simply throwing an arm over his shoulder gleefully. "So, interested in the punk scene huh?" Punk.. So that's what it was called. Patrick had heard the word before; his father and a few other respected adults were talking about it months ago, how a bunch of teenagers were getting arrested, a rebellion type thing. He left not long after that, deciding to go back inside, that it wasn't important.. Well, look where he was now. 

Patrick bit his lip. "Are.. You're like.. in to this type of stuff too yeah? Do you.. I mean.. Can you teach me?" he was stuttering, nervousness bubbling up inside of him. Though he had only had a taste of 'punk' last night, he knew he was already hooked. The feeling that he had last night.. he never ever wanted to loose that. Patrick looked at Brendon anxiously, relaxing when he smiled and nodded. 

"We'll talk about it more at lunch." He said, and Patrick nodded. They were quiet for the rest of the ride to the school, saying goodbye as they walked in the building. Patrick sighed and made his way to first period; Algebra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept editing and editing these first two chapters and finally decided to post them. Feedback is highly appreciated!!


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